Ezmay Grace – Lien Gwerin

Folk

64%

 

At some level, art is all about telling stories. It began with a single handprint on a cave wall that simply said “I was here“, and it all spiralled out from there. Most of our history is built upon tales being told and retold down the generations, and at some point some bright spark started putting them to music to make them easier to remember. We’ve always loved a good story; it’s something so intrinsically human that it seeps into everything we make. Some mediums do this more overtly than others – most every book and movie lets a clear and present narrative unfold before you – but even when it’s not immediately obvious, there’s a story buried in there somewhere. Every photograph describes a specific moment in time in the most exacting detail. Each painting and poem has a wealth to say about the artist and how they see the world. 

Though every song that passes through the blog has some story to tell, I do find myself occasionally longing for tracks that do so with greater depth and intention. Songs that look beyond an earworm melody or a memorable chorus, and instead use their lyricism to fully immerse you in a setting or narrative. Cornish singer/songwriter Ezmay Grace delivers on that promise by drawing upon a rich history of traditional folk music for her debut album. Though it’s the entrancing brightness and clarity of her vocals that first draws you in, it’s her writing that leaves the most lasting impression.

The aptly named Lien Gwerin – Cornish for folk tales – feels like a collection of short stories and local folklore put to verse, each track jumping over to a different vignette, or into the shoes of a new character’s perspective. Right from the first lines of opening track ‘The Blackbird’ (“Come gather round me, here on the floor, the fire’s burning brighter than ever before, a tale is a-stirring, yearning to be told…“), it’s clear that Ezmay has an abiding love and admiration for the mystique and power that only the telling of a good story can provide. From this point forward every scene is set with such vivid, descriptive detail. Each track leaves you waiting with baited breath to hear how the tale unfolds. 

‘Meandering River’ and ‘Siren Song’ both find Ezmay making her own mark on time-honoured tropes. The former a classic tale of lovers separated by an ocean, yearning to be reunited, while the latter naturally finds her own vocals at their most bewitchingly beautiful, ready to lure unsuspecting sailors to their doom. Yet elsewhere the record delves into tales with a fair bit more specificity. ‘Joan’ regales the tragic true story of a woman who was tried for witchcraft and had her remains used as a tourist attraction for many years, before finally being given the peace of a dignified grave. ‘The Lighthouse’ centres on the life of its keeper, and how he fell in love with a woman he rescued, who had washed up upon the shore, while ‘Faina’ is a retelling of Eowyn Ivey’s novel The Snow Child, itself inspired by a Russian folk tale. 

While Lien Gwerin is one of the most lyrically engrossing records I’ve heard this year, musically it comes with a lot of missed opportunities and untapped potential. Every tale it weaves is accompanied by the same sparse arrangement of acoustic guitar or soft piano. There are some very subtle strings dotted here and there, most noticeably on ‘Koswick’ where we’re also offered some much welcome percussion, but for the most part every story is delivered in front of a comparably austere backdrop. As beautiful as Ezmay’s vocals are, they too have little variation across the record. The result is that stories with wildly different themes all have the same soft, bright delivery. There’s little that separates “it is said that his screams could be heard the next village o’er, that they ceased all a sudden, and gave way to a silence so raw” in the ghostly tale of ‘Koswick’, with ‘Moonbeam’s idyllic descriptions of a picturesque narrowboat – these two extremes are somehow both conveyed in much the same tone.

I think more fleshed out and varied instrumentation, with arrangements better suited to the song’s specific themes and atmosphere, would do wonders to elevate the storytelling, and make it feel all the more immersive. In an ideal world I wish Ezmay Grace had a whole orchestra at her disposal. Her rich engaging narratives and entrancing angelic voice deserves an equally grand backdrop. Lien Gwerin‘s shortcomings could be easily remedied on future releases, but right now its strengths are more than enough for me to say that Ezmay Grace is one of the most accomplished storytellers I’ve heard in some time. Best believe I’ll be sat patiently by the fire when next she has new tales to tell.